"There are no two points so distant from one another that they cannot be connected by a single straight line -- and an infinite number of curves."
Composer Lawrence Dillon has produced an extensive body of work, from brief solo pieces to a full-length opera. Partially deaf from birth, Dillon grew up in a bustling household with seven older siblings. He began composing as soon as he started piano lessons at the age of seven. In 1985, he became the youngest composer to earn a doctorate at The Juilliard School, and was shortly thereafter appointed to the Juilliard faculty. Dillon is now Composer in Residence at the North Carolina School of the Arts, where he has served as Music Director of the Contemporary Ensemble, Assistant Dean of Performance and Dean of the School of Music.
Dillon's music, in the words of American Record Guide, is "lovely...austere...vivid and impressive." His works are recorded by Albany Records, Channel Crossings and CRS, and published by American Composers Editions. He is represented by Jeffrey James Arts Consulting.
Over the years, I’ve come to understand and accept that different composers have very different objectives and inspirations for their music. And indeed, why would we wish for a world in which all composers were after the same results? Isn’t it better to have the tens of thousands of composers in the world reflecting the variety and diversity of tens of thousands of cultures?
So I’ve never gotten riled up when I hear of a composer taking a stance that is antithetical to mine. In fact, I welcome the counterpoint in perspective – with a little effort, I can always understand where another composer is coming from.
That is, until recently. I’ve finally discovered a piece of music that has me stupefied. I’ve finally encountered a composer whose purpose is more obscure than I can grasp.
And to think this piece was introduced to me by my two-year-old.
Okay, I can maybe believe that a farmer would name his dog Bingo. I’m not sure why, but it doesn’t seem completely out of the realm of possibility.
But why on earth would anybody feel so inspired by that name as to write a song about how it’s spelled?